Part 6 (1/2)
Caroline s.h.i.+vered. ”Unfair,” she whispered. ”I'm sorry I ever told you.”
”Well, I'm not. I could kill them both with my bare hands for hurting you.”
Despite the seriousness of her situation, Caroline smiled. ”You cannot kill a peer of the realm. But I would have no objection to you going a few rounds with Andrew.”
”A few rounds? Don't be absurd. I'd flatten him in seconds, b.a.s.t.a.r.d to b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Caroline, what can I do to help? Do you want me to talk to Christie?”
”Good Lord, no. He wouldn't see you at any rate.”
”I've got my ways,” Garrett said darkly. ”He needs to be told.”
”No!” Caroline said, alarmed. ”You promised.”
”That was when you were just an estranged wife. But if he means to divorce you-why, he can't, can he? He'll have to prove you were unfaithful.”
”Andrew will lie if the price is right. There are the letters, too. No one need know they predate my marriage.”
Garrett sat back down, gripping her hands in his. ”Do you want this divorce, Caroline? If you do, you needn't have anything to do with Rossiter. I can give evidence.”
The idea had some appeal. She would prefer she never had her name linked to Andrew Rossiter in any way. But Garrett Marburn was too good a friend, and the scandal could affect his business adversely. ”Your reputation would be ruined, Garrett.”
He barked out a laugh. ”Aye, illegitimate son that I am. And in trade, even worse. I'm already persona non grata. But people will still buy my newspapers and books, Caroline. They cannot help themselves.” He gave her hands a quick squeeze. ”You know as well as I do some people think we're lovers as it is.”
She shook her head. ”I know you mean well, but I cannot bring you into this any more than you are already. I wanted to warn you Sir William Maclean will probably contact you. Don't lie for me, Garrett. We've done nothing to be ashamed of.”
”Not that I haven't tried, Caroline. I wonder, does Christie even know what he's giving up? You've never let me touch you, but I know it would be good between us. More than good. You're light and fire, Caroline, meant for love. For life. For laughter.”
She did love Garrett, but not in the right way. Caroline pulled her hands free and wiped her face. ”You are supposed to cheer me up, not make me blubber.”
”Well, I thought that was a very pretty speech if I do say so myself, and I expect to read it verbatim, if not in The Harlot's Husband then in some other volume. What's the name of the next one? The Duke's Doxy?” He winked at her.
”You didn't mean one word! Oh, you are incorrigible.”
”Every minute of the day.” He moved his foot before she could stomp it again.
”There's something else, too,” said Caroline, remembering. ”Edward told me that Lords Pope and Dougla.s.s visited him the other day, threatening legal action over my books.”
Garrett laughed. ”Cold Christie must have had a spasm entertaining those two. How I wish I had been there. I'd have set them straight.”
”I know you have legal representation, and you say we are safe, but-”
”We are, Caroline. Don't add that to your list of worries. If it will make you feel any better, I can have one of my men move in to guard you.”
”Guard me! Surely it won't come to that. We're all perfectly safe here on Jane Street.”
Garrett frowned. ”I hope so. You know there was some sort of incident involving Sir Michael Bayard. The watchman was knocked on the head.”
”There are two watchmen now, and Charlotte's gone. The house is empty.” Caroline smiled. There was nothing left of her friend but some cupid dust in the garden. There was plenty of essence of angel to protect all the women who lived there.
A clatter at the door signaled Lizzie was up with lunch. Garrett went to the door and let her in. ”Lizzie, my love, you get more beautiful every time I see you. That mobcap is rather criminal, though, covering all that golden hair.” In an instant, he plucked it off her head. Lizzie was openmouthed, the heavy tray preventing her from retaliation.
”I'll take the whiskey back downstairs if you don't give it back this instant.”
Garrett swept the tray out of her hands. ”Indeed you will not. Caroline, you don't insist your maid wear that ridiculous headgear, do you? Bad enough the poor girl's all in black with an ap.r.o.n concealing her luscious curves.”
”Garrett!”
”Mr. Marburn!”
”Ah, the outrage. I'm a man. I have eyes.” He set the tray down on the small dining table. ”And I've a powerful thirst.” He poured two fingers from the decanter into the gla.s.s. ”To the ladies of Jane Street. May the future be bright for you both.” He tossed back the liquor as Lizzie fled the room.
Caroline came to the table and distributed the plates and cutlery. ”It's one thing to tease me, Garrett, but don't be so cavalier with Lizzie. She's had a hard year.”
Garrett popped an olive into his mouth. ”Who says I'm being cavalier? I find her very fetching. She's wasted as your maid.”
”She can't go back to being a wh.o.r.e. Pope made sure of that.”
”Who said anything about her being a wh.o.r.e?”
Caroline put her fork down. ”Garrett,” she said carefully, ”what are your intentions toward my maid?”
Garrett speared a chunk of chicken and waved it across the table. ”My intentions? Are you the girl's mother?”
”She was brutally beaten. Her back is a mess and her spirits worse. Don't toy with her.”
”Caroline, I don't know if I ever told you. My mother was a Jane. Lived in Number Ten under my father's protection. I have no objection to her former profession. I'm that rare thing-a true son of a wh.o.r.e. And I remember when your Lizzie was Eliza Reynolds, one of the most beautiful girls on the stage. Couldn't dance well, but didn't need to.”
”That was years ago. There were men before Pope, you know.”
Garrett shook his head. ”You must decide whether you're championing Lizzie or championing me. Leave it, Caroline.”
Caroline took a sip of wine. Could it be she was jealous? No, not at all. She didn't want Garrett for herself, like some sort of trained lapdog who danced for his treat. He was her best friend at present, not a potential lover. But Garrett and Lizzie? She took another sip and choked. My word, it all sounded like a possible plot for a book-The b.a.s.t.a.r.d's Battered Beauty. It was too perfect for words. She might be able to get her digs in again against the wretched Randolph Pope. But no. Garrett wouldn't publish such a thing, although perhaps he could live it.
”What do you think of Queen Caroline coming home?” she asked, changing the subject as requested. If anyone knew the latest on dit, it would be the man at her luncheon table. As Garrett ate and gestured, Caroline drifted off, plotting the next romance, one she had every intention of orchestrating from the ground up.
”h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation!” Edward tossed the missive into the farthest corner of his study and set his eyegla.s.ses on their tray. According to a friend in high places who knew the secret machinations of their monarch, it seemed he would be condemned to stay in town all summer to haggle over the marital situation of his king and his unlucky wife. A Bill of Pain and Penalties was being prepared, a completely apt name as far as Edward was concerned. There would be untold pain and penalties for him. He could, of course, send the children to the country for their planned holiday with his sister, but he was doomed to sit in the heat and misery to discuss the cold and miserable state of George IV's marriage. Queen Caroline was already parading all over London, and every peer, bishop, and judge would be required to attend the trial, which could go on indefinitely. Interminably.
Odd that two Carolines were the key to his discomfort. In the few days he'd returned to Caro's bed, he had been unable to wean himself from wanting her with an intensity that was somewhat frightening. He'd looked forward to escaping to Christie Park to contemplate his newly single state. Now his days would be tied up in the stuffy confines of an annex to the House of Lords, and his nights- Caro would know his plans had changed. The whole of England was privy to the Queen Consort's and George's difficulty, and this latest step of the king's to remove the boil that was his wife from his backside was sure to attract the interest of all his subjects. Everyone knew they had been mismatched and unfaithful to each other for years, yet even after the 'Delicate Investigation' fourteen years ago, George had been unsuccessful in untethering himself from his German cousin.
A new movement was afoot to be rid of Caroline of Brunswick once and for all. When she returned from abroad, the fragile deal that had been forged splintered apart. Edward supposed he should consider himself lucky. His Caroline had never been quite as indiscreet-nor as demanding-as George's unwanted wife.
Would Caro still expect him to provide her with a new schedule once she learned he wasn't going to leave for the country after all? Could he even stick to a schedule, when every conscious minute of the day included thoughts of her? Resuming his marital rights had only reminded him how empty and dull his life had been without Caro in it. He had been well and truly hoisted on his own petard.
How ironic that all his future days were to be tied up in the dissolution of a marriage not his own. What it would do to advance his own plight he had no idea. If the government was to rehash the scandal about Queen Caroline and her Italian secretary for the foreseeable future-shades of Mary Queen of Scots!-there might not be opportunity to shoehorn in his own pet.i.tion.
Edward let out an uncharacteristic growl. It was followed some seconds later by a gentle knock on his study door.